


Punishment

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Sterek A-Z Challenge [16]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-22 18:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10702962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: Derek wished someone could steal his own pain right now, which was settling into the base of his skull and slowly moving its way upwards. Because, of course, he was with Scott and Stiles, on a stakeout. He had learned early on—wayearly on—that Stiles did not do well with stakeouts. Somehow though, he always seemed to forget about that until they were in the middle of one and Stiles would get antsy and start fidgeting and talking and slowly increase his level of annoyance until Derek wanted to tell him to leave.





	Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis

Derek knew it was going to be a long night. It usually was when the pack was involved, but after years of dealing with them—or, at least, the most annoying two—he really thought he’d be able to handle this better.

He’d split them all up hours ago, everyone in groups with two Weres and a human—or banshee, in Lydia’s case. As per usual, he liked to keep Stiles close, because he tended to get himself into trouble all the time and Derek liked being close enough to yell at him about it. And keep him safe, that too. Because he was Stiles, and despite himself, Derek loved him.

Of course, wherever Stiles went, Scott followed. They were like a package deal. Sometimes Derek was surprised Scott left at all and didn’t crawl into bed with them when he finally dragged Stiles away from his research. Thankfully, Scott tended to go home and it left Derek and Stiles alone for some much needed sleep.

Sometimes more interesting activities came up, but mostly during times of crisis, it was sleep, accompanied by Derek secretly taking Stiles’ pain when he was sure he wouldn’t notice. Usually it was when Stiles was in that stage between being awake and falling asleep. He didn’t tend to notice when Derek used their compromising positions to steal his pain.

Derek wished someone could steal his own pain right now, which was settling into the base of his skull and slowly moving its way upwards. Because, of course, he was with Scott and Stiles, on a stakeout. He had learned early on— _way_  early on—that Stiles did not do well with stakeouts. Somehow though, he always seemed to forget about that until they were in the middle of one and Stiles would get antsy and start fidgeting and talking and slowly increase his level of annoyance until Derek wanted to tell him to leave.

He never did, but he often wanted to. Especially when twenty minutes into their stakeout, Scott had made a stupid comment about being hungry, and Stiles had replied with, “I’m on a seafood diet. Every time I see food, I eat it.”

There had been the briefest of pauses before Scott had started to laugh, Stiles grinning at him, insanely pleased with himself. Derek had spared him a small curve of the corners of his lips because he wanted to be a supportive boyfriend, and also because the pun _had_  been a little funny.

It was now an hour later. The puns were getting less funny. Virtually every topic Derek tried to bring up had a pun associated with it. He didn’t think Stiles was thinking them all up on the fly, but if he had memorized them at one point in his life, he was fucking _amazing_  for having remembered so many of them.

Derek had said, “This doesn’t sit right with me, that’s the frustrating part.”

Stiles had immediately replied, without missing a beat, with, “Don’t spell part backwards. It’s a trap.”

Scott had howled with laughter at that, and Derek had had to remind them both this was serious and they were trying to catch a Wendigo before it killed again, which had just given Stiles the perfect opening for another pun.

“Why don’t cannibals eat clowns?”

“Why?” Scott asked with a grin at the exact same moment Derek said, “Don’t!”

Stiles, unabashed, grinned wide at Derek and very deliberately said, “Because they taste funny.”

“You need to stop,” Derek growled, flashing blue eyes at him angrily. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I was crazy once,” Stiles mused, and Derek could _feel_  the pun coming. It was right there, he could sense it. “It’s all in your head, you know, so all you need to do is replace your brain.”

Maybe he’d been wrong. There hadn’t been a pun in there, and he thought maybe Stiles had run out.

And then, “I wasn’t originally going to get a brain transplant, but then I changed my mind.”

Scott snorted out a laugh, then hit the back of Stiles’ seat. “Oh, hey! A friend of mine tried to annoy me with bird puns, but then I realized that _toucan_  play at that game!”

Stiles turned to high five Scott, the two of them laughing.

Derek should’ve gone with Malia and Lydia. At least their constant bickering was entertaining, even to him.

“Can you stop?” Derek snapped again. “This is serious! People are dying! Can’t you at least _act_  like you care?”

“No,” Stiles offered. “I’m emotionally constipated.”

Derek bared his teeth at him to try and stop him from continuing.

He failed.

“Haven’t given a shit in days.”

Scott howled with laughter again.

“What do I see in you?” Derek demanded angrily, turning to look out the window again. If the Wendigo _was_  nearby, it would find them instantly because of Scott’s obnoxiously loud hyena impression.

“Well, I’m no photographer, but I can picture us together.”

“Stiles,” he said warningly.

“What? I’m just saying.” He grinned. “Besides, I know how irresistible I am. I mean, when I get naked in the bathroom, the shower usually gets turned on.”

“If you’re not careful, I’ll _drown_  you in the bathroom,” Derek muttered, eyes darting to movement on their left, but it was just a jogger and their dog. He wished it were the Wendigo, so that he could finally escape this torture.

“Don’t be like that, come on. Come on, Derek.” Stiles poked him in the cheek and he went to bite at his finger before his boyfriend hastily retreated it, still grinning. “Come on, Derek. Is it just my mad skills that you hate? I’ll give you an easy one. What’s long and hard, and has cum in it?”

This was a trick question. Derek _knew_  it was a trick question. But he still couldn’t help the fact that his gaze lowered to Stiles’ crotch, which earned him a jovial response.

“A cucumber!”

“I fucking hate you,” he bit out.

“You _adore_  me.” Stiles leaned in to kiss his cheek, retreating quickly so as not to incur any more of Derek’s wrath. “We have perfect chemistry. You know, I’d tell you a chemistry joke, but I know I wouldn’t get a reaction.”

“Stiles, I _swear_  to God,” Derek snapped, legitimately seconds away from throttling him, “if you don’t stop with the fucking puns, I am going to tie you to the bed and fuck you so hard you won’t remember your own name, let alone another stupid fucking pun!”

Silence. Beautiful, wonderful, blissful silence.

Derek had never known silence could be so amazing, but when he turned to Stiles, he saw a thoughtful look cross his features before the corners of his lips curled upwards into an impish smile, shifting his gaze to Derek. Scott seemed to be holding his breath in the back seat.

“Well,” said Stiles, a glint in his amber eyes, “doesn’t _that_  just sound like the perfect—”

Derek tensed, eyes widening. _Don’t say it! Stiles, don’t do it!_

“— _pun_ ishment.”

He was going to fucking _kill_ him.

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I could take credit for all the amazing puns, but alas, I am not that gifted. All but the last one (ie: the worst one) came from: http://onelinefun.com/puns/. I had a lot of fun reading through the site, let me tell ya.


End file.
